Looking Just So
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Lucien buys a pair of shoes for his wife because he can't stop imagining what she'll look like wearing them. Jean figures out exactly what she wants and gives it to him. Dedicated to Rahleeyah for finding the best inspiration images for things like this.


**Looking Just So**

Lucien arrived home and called to his wife excitedly. She came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Yes, Lucien, what are you shouting about?" she asked, her brow quirked in teasing amusement.

He gave her a quick kiss before holding out the package he'd brought home. "For you, my darling," he said proudly.

Jean frowned with curiosity. "For me? What for?"

"A token of my undying love and affection."

She rolled her eyes and carried the package to the kitchen, setting it down on the table to unwrap the box. "Oh. Shoes?"

"Not just any shoes. Take a look," he replied cryptically.

She did as he said. "Lucien! Oh my goodness, I can't wear these!" Jean exclaimed. She took one shoe out gently, reverently admiring the bejeweled stiletto heel.

"You'll find an occasion for them. But I saw them in the shop window and I couldn't stop imagining you wearing them. Showing off your mile-long legs and looking...looking just so."

"Lucien, did you buy me shoes just so I could wear them in the bedroom?!" she hissed, despite no one else being home.

"You can wear them for whatever you like, Jean," he insisted innocently.

She eyed him suspiciously. "They're beautiful so I will thank you for the lovely gift. But I will be hard-pressed to find an occasion to wear them." Jean gave him a kiss on the cheek as she left the kitchen to take the shoes up to their bedroom to hide away in the closet.

Jean spent days being distracted by those gorgeous, practically scandalous shoes hidden away. They were tucked in the box, out of sight, but she knew they were there. Taunting her. Tempting her.

She thought about what Lucien had said. Seeing her "looking just so." Jean liked to think she had no illusions about her own appearance and attractiveness; she certainly wasn't in the first blush of youth by any stretch, but her lifetime of work and delicate care had ensured her figure stayed trim. She paid a reasonable yet less-than-vain amount of attention to having her hair set and her nails painted and her makeup adequately applied. Yes, Jean Blake knew she had a certain appeal to the opposite sex, even at her age. What she wondered, however, was what Lucien saw when he looked at her. He loved her so deeply and thoroughly. He made her feel so desirable and wanton and full of more passion than she'd thought possible. What did he see? What did he mean when he wanted to see her "looking just so?"

The idea came a bit over time. Thinking about the shoes. About how he had commented on her shapely legs. How he had reacted once to see her sleepily put on his dressing gown early one morning instead of her own, how he'd commented that he liked knowing that his clothing was touching her bare flesh when his hands weren't.

And so it came to be that Jean organized a surprise for her husband one evening. He was due to come home before dinner. He had promised, and he had gotten rather good at keeping those promises just over half the time. Jean knew he would come look for her when she wasn't in her usual position in front of the stove.

"Jean?" he called, wandering through the house.

Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she momentarily doubted the intelligence of this plan of hers. She had thought he'd like it but what if she were wrong? What if her attempt at seduction should fail and he instead found her effort laughable?

Jean put that thought right out of her mind. This was Lucien. Her Lucien. He never once had disrespected her in such a manner. She knew him better than that.

"Oh...Jean."

She turned from her place by the sunroom window to see him stare at her with his jaw dropped. Dark lust shone in his eyes as he took in her appearance from bottom to top. She was wearing the shoes, and Jean had to admit he was correct, they did make her legs look rather wonderful. She had foregone stockings, keeping her legs bare for him. The rest of her was bare, too, save for one of his white shirts unbuttoned over her thin frame. It was large enough to cover her down past her bum. But the fabric gaped open to reveal the expanse of her body. Jean had strategically faced her body to the side so he wouldn't quite see her on full display. The sunset through the window gave her a silhouetted backlight, her soft hair shimmering against the pink sky behind her.

"Is this what you meant? When you wanted me to wear the shoes looking just so?" she asked. Jean smiled at him softly, knowing without his response that yes, this was what he meant.

"You look…" he trailed off as he stared at her.

She turned to face him full on, giving him an unabashed view of her body. Jean trembled, trying not to feel embarrassed at her brazen action, knowing that he would appreciate it and reward her bravery with his rather skilled lovemaking. "What do you see, Lucien? When you look at me?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't shake too much.

"Love. Beauty. Strength. Excitement. Anticipation."

"Anticipation?"

"For what I want to do to you."

An electric shiver passed through her. Jean adored when his voice got all low and husky like that, like he was growling with primal lust for her. "And what do you want to do to me? Tell me, Lucien."

He took a few steps toward her. But Jean raised her brow in a way that told him he wasn't to come too close. Not yet. He had to earn her. He had to tell her what he wanted. "I want to touch you. I want to feel your skin under my hands, around your waist and your ribs and your back. And want to take your breasts in my palms and between my fingers and in my mouth. I want to see the way your chest flushes when your heart beats fast and my beard scratches you a bit. I want to kneel down and worship you, bury my face between your legs, hold you against me as your knees go weak when you come for me. I want to lift you in my arms and press you against the window here and feel your hot breath against my neck as I take you and stroke you and make you scream my name."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, shocked but exhilarated to hear him speak in such an explicit manner. Her eyes were dark with want and warmth blossomed in her belly. And if she were wearing knickers, she knew they'd be soaking wet. She swallowed hard. "I think that's what you should do," she replied breathily.

But he shook his head. "No, not just yet. There's something I want to do first."

"Oh?"

"First, I want to kiss you and taste your tongue and keep kissing you until we can't breathe and the lack of oxygen makes us dizzy."

"Well, you're very clever, Lucien. I'm sure you can do that while you start in on all the rest," she reasoned. Her whole body was buzzing for him now, aching with need.

"My god, I love you," he said. And before she could tell him she loved him, too, he'd closed the distance between them, starting in on all the things he'd described.

He kissed her hard and deep and long, his hands wandering her body underneath the shirt she wore. They didn't break the kiss until Jean pulled away with a gasp as his fingers rolled her taut nipples. His kisses traveled down her neck to her breasts. He smiled when he saw her skin flush as he teased her with his tongue and teeth and beard. Her moans fueled his fire until he could take it no longer. He had to taste her.

Lucien got down onto his knees, kneeling so he was at the right height. He grasped her bum tightly, maneuvering her so his mouth could find her center. She was a bit wobbly on those shoes, particularly with the way her hips jerked against his face, grinding down against his lips, making sure his tongue was exactly where she wanted him. He hummed happily as she shattered, lapping up all her juices before finally standing up again.

Jean slumped against him, unable to stand on her own. But no matter, he swiftly freed his throbbing erection from his trousers and lifted her up. Bracing her against the window, he plunged into her heat. And just as he wanted, her panting breath puffed against his neck. She whispered his name, moaning with the strength that remained as he pounded into her over and over and over. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and one stiletto heel was pressed into his backside. Lucien was pleased that he was still wearing his trousers or else he wouldn't have been able to do this properly. It didn't take long before she was screaming in ecstasy, exactly the way he knew she would.

When he finished inside her and held her tight, leaning against the window to remain upright, Lucien couldn't help but smile. He knew exactly how this would go, and he knew exactly how to get her to respond the way he wanted.

It had been so thrilling to learn her body and the way to make love to her when they'd first gotten married. That exploration was full of excitement of all that was new to be discovered between them.

Now, however, he knew her so well. And it was even more exciting, to get to plan and imagine and anticipate their sex life. He had fantasized at great length what he wanted to do to her while she wore those shoes, looking just so.

And it was everything he'd dreamed, only better. Because it wasn't just in his dreams, it was real. Jean was real. And she had given him everything he wanted and more.


End file.
